


Angel In My Arms

by mrbarbacarisi



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Music, Getting Together, Hook-Up, M/M, Pining, Romance, musician au, vague sex scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 02:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15786741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrbarbacarisi/pseuds/mrbarbacarisi
Summary: Before his first album released, Peter shared a romantic night with a man he met at a bar. The song he wrote about their night together launched his career, but he never stopped thinking about Sonny — even after he quit music altogether.





	Angel In My Arms

_Golden hair, blue eyes, sharp wit, and a crooked smile_  
_You hypnotized me from the moment I first saw you_

  


Peter sighed as he settled into his seat. The bartender came over immediately.

“Still not inspired?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Nothing. He had been working on the final track for his debut album for what felt like years. And he had nothing. Not a single lyric in his notebook. Not a single note on his sheet music. Not even a single chord or phrase in his head. Absolutely nothing. 

The most lonely experience in the world is being a singer without anything to sing. A writer with no ideas. It was why he was here at the bar instead of back at his apartment in front of his piano and guitar. He needed company. Music used to be that one place of solace, of peace in a busy world. But right now, all it offered was a hollow emptiness. It was the worst feeling he had ever experienced. 

“It’ll come to you eventually," the bartender assured him. Peter had ranted to him plenty of times about his lack of inspiration. He was pretty sure he was the most annoying patron, but Peter made sure to tip him well. 

“Yeah," he scoffed. "We’ll see about that.”

He had been to this bar many times over the past month and still nothing had changed. He was still a sad, empty songwriter with zero ideas. 

He sighed when the bartender served him his usual drink. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Peter turned to watch the other patrons at the bar. Maybe something about their lives would trigger an idea. He hoped. It hadn't worked so far. He looked over flirting couples and lonely alcoholics. No one Interesting. No one inspiring. 

But then his breath caught in his throat. Sitting at the other end of the bar was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. 

Dark blond hair, pale skin flushed red with alcohol. Blue eyes magnified by his blue uniform. Peter recognized the dress blues immediately. He was a police officer. And the man stood over there, smiling and laughing with his friends, oblivious to Peter in every way. 

Peter watched him for several minutes. He didn't care that it might be creepy. He was not letting this man out of his sight. After a few minutes, his group disbanded and left. Just the boy with bright blue eyes remained. And then, the unthinkable happened. The beautiful young police officer looked over at Peter and smiled. Suddenly, he was walking toward him. 

Peter couldn't breathe, his heart hammered hard. The man looked even more gorgeous the closer he got. 

His bright smile flashed again. "Hi. I'm Dominick but you can call me Sonny."

"Sonny," Peter repeated dumbly before shaking his head. He cleared his throat. "I'm Peter."

Sonny nodded and took the seat next to him. "So, uh, I couldn't help but notice your muscles there."

Peter laughed. He was wearing a tight shirt that showed off his fitness. He hadn't really been thinking when he dressed for the bar. He just threw on the first available thing. 

"Yeah," he said. "I played varsity baseball in college. Never quite broke the diet and exercise habits."

"Well it definitely works on you."

Peter flushed, trying to think of what to say next. "Thanks. You're a police officer?"

"Yeah. I actually just graduated from the Academy today."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks," Sonny beamed. Peter felt his entire body go warm. He had never felt this way about a virtual stranger before. "What do you do? You still play baseball?"

"I play for fun now. But for a job, I'm a singer. Trying to finish my first album."

"Wow. Really? I didn't know singers could start in New York. Thought you had to be in LA for that."

"I'm lucky. The label I signed with is based here, at home."

"Oh so you're a native then."

"Born and raised."

"I'm from Staten Island."

Peter chuckled. "Really? Would never have guessed."

Sonny smiled. "Oh right. The accent. A lot of people find it annoying."

"I like it."

"Thanks," he laughed. "Speaking of voices, I'd love to hear your songs."

Peter sighed. "I would show you but I'm feeling uninspired at the moment."

Sonny leaned in closer. "Maybe I could help."

He felt his heart speed up again. "Yeah? How?"

"You got a draft or something?"

“In my apartment."

"Take me there."

Peter smiled. He wasn't opposed to the idea, though this was a much faster progression than he had anticipated. "How forward of you."

Sonny just smiled and nodded. He also carefully slid his hand onto Peter's thigh under the bar.

Peter swallowed in anticipation. "Okay. Let's go."

  


* * *

  


_You blessed me with your presence, your grace, your love  
You are the angel in my arms_

  


The entire cab ride home, Sonny inched closer and closer to Peter. When they first climbed in, he spread his legs just far enough to make their knees touch. Peter couldn’t help but glance over every few seconds. This beautiful man was going home with him. It seemed too good to be true.

And then, at a red light, Sonny decided to scoot across the seat and press his thigh fully against Peter’s. He swallowed, feeling impossibly warm at the gentle contact. Peter stretched his arm across the back of the seat and Sonny flashed him a smile.

The last couple minutes of the ride were the most torturous. Sonny put a hand on his thigh again. He started slowly moving it upward. Peter moved his hand from the seat to Sonny’s shoulder as a form of encouragement. Sonny slowly, tantalizingly continued to move his hand higher and higher.  


Peter was so lost in the sensation that he didn’t realize the cab had stopped until Sonny pulled away and paid the driver. Peter blinked, released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and quickly stepped out of the car. Sonny followed.

Peter led him to his door. Sonny hovered close behind as he inserted the key. Peter felt his eyes on him as he closed and locked the door behind them. The warmth returned when he met his gaze. Sonny's eyes were somehow an even deeper blue than before. Peter swallowed again.

"So the studio is over here. It's nothing fancy."

"Anywhere you make music is special I'm sure," Sonny replied as they walked down the hall. 

Peter flicked the switch near the door and hovered outside while Sonny looked in. "Piano and guitar, huh?"

He shrugged. "Kinda need both."

Sonny smiled at him. "Can you play me something?"

"Sure." He walked to sit at the upright piano. "Any requests?"

"Just play what you feel like." Sonny leaned on the wall near him.

Peter took a moment to think and then began to play. The melody wasn't any piece he knew or had written. He was just playing based on how he felt. Nervous, excited, maybe a little in love. Sonny listened with rapt attention.

A couple minutes into Peter playing, Sonny moved to sit next to him on the bench. Peter stumbled on the keys as his body pressed against his. He stopped playing completely when Sonny put a hand on his back.

He looked over at him. In the warm light of the studio, his skin looked even more soft. His hair even more golden. He was beautiful.

And then Sonny was leaning toward him. Peter met him halfway. Their lips crashed together. Peter pulled Sonny closer. Sonny's hands tangled in his hair.

Peter moved to unbutton Sonny's uniform and his elbow slammed into the keys. An ugly chord echoed in the room. He broke away from Sonny, laughing. "Bedroom?"

Sonny laughed and smiled. "Lead the way."

Peter felt his heartbeat in his throat as they walked down the hall. He wanted to keep touching Sonny. He had never felt this amount of anticipation with anyone in his life. It was almost a magnetic pull, drawing him closer. He hoped somewhere deep down, Sonny was experiencing the same connection. 

Once they reached the bedroom, they undressed slowly, examining and admiring every inch of each other’s bodies. 

Peter eagerly spread on his back on the bed, breathless as he watched Sonny hover over him. The streetlight cast a gentle glow through the window. It made Sonny's skin shine beautifully. 

"Wow. You're fit," Sonny murmured as he slid his hands over Peter's chest and stomach.

Peter laughed. "You're not so bad yourself."

He shook his head. "Not like you. Not even close. You got supplies, right?"

"Yep. Bedside table."

Sonny reached over and gathered what he needed. Peter gently traced patterns on Sonny's skin. He couldn't lose contact again. Sonny didn't complain. 

Peter gasped when Sonny started to prepare him. 

"You okay?" Sonny asked. 

"Good. Just been awhile."

"I'll be gentle."

Sonny was more than gentle. Peter was a complete mess by the time he was finally ready for him. He hadn't been this desperate in a long time. And judging by the look in Sonny's eyes, neither had he. 

Despite this, Sonny took him slowly and carefully. Peter felt every nerve ending in his body. Sonny's hands were everywhere and Peter pulled him as close as he possibly could. 

Peter gasped and shuddered as he adjusted the angle of his thrusts. Sonny's hair shone in the soft light. Peter reached up and ran his fingers through it. 

Sonny moaned at the contact and leaned down to nip at his neck. Peter pulled him in for a deep kiss, moaning into his mouth as he hit the right spot.

"God, Peter," Sonny groaned. "I'm nearly there."

"Don't stop. Don't stop," Peter murmured, pulling him close. He felt Sonny's gasps against his ear. Heat pooled in his belly. He wasn't going to last much longer either. 

A few moments later, Sonny shuddered as he came. Peter pulled him back down for another kiss as he came just as hard. 

"Fuck." Sonny collapsed on top of him. "Wow."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah same here."

He pulled back slightly, grinning at him. "Think you could go again tonight?"

"Hm. Probably." Peter desperately wanted to. He didn't want this to be the end. He needed more time with his perfect man in his arms. 

Sonny laughed. "You are something else. Let's get you cleaned up."

Peter told him where the washcloths were in the bathroom and held his breath as Sonny reverently wiped his stomach clean. It was an intimate gesture for just a casual hook up. 

Sonny laid on his side next to Peter, drawing lines across his chest with his fingers. Sonny's hair, now disshelved, cascaded down to partially cover his face. He made no move to correct it so Peter did it for him. 

Sonny smiled when he brushed his hair back. Peter's heart went haywire again. He pulled him close for another kiss and Sonny eagerly followed. 

Peter felt himself stirring again. He wanted Sonny as many times as he would have him. He had no idea if he would ever see him again after tonight.

  


* * *

  


_I pray someday you'll come back to me  
You are my inspiration_

  


When Peter woke, he was alone. Sonny wasn't in the bed next to him. The comforter was tucked back neatly. His clothes weren't on the floor. Peter walked out into the kitchen, but that was empty too. The only evidence Sonny had been there was the unlocked front door. 

Peter threw the deadbolt and went back to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Instead, he stood by the stove for a few minutes. Unmoving.

He had no way to contact Sonny. He only knew his nickname and that he was a police officer. Sonny knew his address. If he wanted to see him, he could just come back. But he doubted it. As a young cop, it wasn't likely that Sonny was out. Peter _himself_ wasn't out to anyone in his life except his lovers. 

He wasn't hungry anymore. He went into his little studio. He hesitated before sitting at the piano, remembering the kiss they shared on that bench. 

Peter sat. And for the first time in weeks, he was struck with inspiration. He weaved pieces of the melody he had played for Sonny the night before into his new song. It was an ode to the night they had shared. To the angel he had briefly held in his arms. He would probably never see him again, but he always had the memories. He would cherish them deeply. Even as he moved forward. 

  


* * *

  


_And then you left  
You left me alone  
You went back to the heavenly place you came from_

  


Peter tuned out the TVs as he walked through the lobby of his law firm. 

Yet another entertainment report blathered on: _Angel In My Arms was a huge hit when it released as a single in the mid-2000s. And it has surged back into the pop scene because of its inclusion on the soundtrack of a blockbuster rom-com. But the song's composer and singer Peter Stone hasn't earned a dime from it since he stopped touring a decade ago. What does this say about the music industry?_

His performer days were long behind him. He hadn't thought about making music once since he dropped out of his contract. It was a major change of pace, but he still loved his job as a contract litigator. He primarily worked in the music industry, helping young artists negotiate fair contracts so they would never be forced into the same situation he was. 

His contract with the label was incredibly restrictive. He had to choose back then. Continue producing music that forced him to ignore his sexuality, or quit.

Peter had chosen the latter. The label had decided that they couldn't sell any music that was explicitly about any same-sex relationship. Never mind that their biggest hit was about a romantic tryst between two men. Peter didn't want to lie about who he was anymore. So he left. He went to law school and now used his degree for good. 

At the end of it all, Peter was satisfied with his life. Happy to help others. He didn’t miss writing music. Once he had enrolled in law school, that became his life. He hadn't thought about his hit song in years. 

Until it appeared without his knowledge or consent on a soundtrack album for a big summer blockbuster. Now, Angel In My Arms was all every entertainment show could talk about. Along with Peter's _unfortunate_ treatment under his contract. He was spotted on the street more times than he ever had been before, even when he was touring. He had never shied away from the spotlight. But now, he resented that he didn’t have a choice. He wanted to continue working without needless distractions.

"Hi, Eva,” Peter smiled at his assistant as he walked toward his office. "Any messages for me?"

"Oh, just about forty seven."

Peter laughed. "Yeah. Any _relevant_ messages for me?"

"Hm. I think that's about ten, but you only need to respond to two."

Peter sighed. "It's been over a week already. When will the press stop bothering me?"

"Probably when your song falls from the charts. Which isn't likely to happen anytime soon."

"Unfortunately, I'm just too talented."

She laughed. "Yep. Unfortunately."

Peter shook his head and walked into his office. He sighed as he sank into his chair. If only the press knew the full story behind the song. His messages would probably multiply tenfold. He still wasn't out publicly. But that was mostly because he never thought his sexuality was anyone's business but his own. He just didn't feel any pressure to share. And since he had given up his pop star status, the average person cared even less.

He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. He wondered when he would be able to come into work without hearing his name on the news. 

Eva popped her head into his office. "I forwarded you the messages you need."

"Thanks."

"Oh and don't forget you have that conference this afternoon."

"Thank you for reminding me."

"No problem."

For once, Peter was actually looking forward to a conference. It would be time spent away from the news and the constant stream of phone calls. Just him, the law and his fellow attorneys. That was all he needed.

  


* * *

  


_This house is our sanctuary  
This bed is our altar  
This moment is ours_

  


That afternoon, Peter arrived at the hotel designated for the conference early. He needed the break. He signed in and headed toward the section designated for contract litigators. He wouldn't be speaking at this event, but he always liked to chat with the attendees. He preferred to have good connections especially with people he might be facing down in court. 

"Rita," he greeted. "Shouldn't you be over in the criminal law section?"

She turned and smiled at him, drink in hand already. "You know me, Peter. I dabble."

"Haven't had the pleasure of facing you down in court yet."

"I haven't had a good enough client yet."

He chuckled. "Of course. How many billable hours have you worked this month?"

"More than most. I'm sure you're the same."

He shrugged. "Being a partner has some perks."

"Emphasis on some."

"Oh, definitely."

"Rita!" A voice shouted from the sign in table. 

She looked over and immediately shook her head. "Eager law student at ten o'clock," she muttered.

He turned to face the voice. He was about to correct her and say that it was more like his 6 o'clock, but the words died on his tongue when he saw the face attached to the voice. 

He was tall and lanky. Dark blond hair gelled back into place. As he walked toward them, his beaming smile was unmistakable. 

It was him. Sonny. The man he had taken to bed for a night. His angel. 

He was older of course. Now, he had silver streaks in his hair at his temples and a few more wrinkles. But he was still the same man. Right down to his saunter.

Peter stared even after he came to a stop in front of them. He had never expected to see him again. He had made peace with that. But now-

"Peter," Rita called with a smirk. 

He shook his head and offered a smile. "Sorry. I'm a little distracted today."

"Uh huh," she replied. "As I was saying, this is Detective Carisi. I've faced off with his mentor a few times in court."

"That's not entirely fair," Sonny- _Detective_ Carisi said. He not only made officer, he had been promoted. Peter was distracted again by his hand gestures as he spoke. They were exactly the same mannerisms he had committed to memory. "You did help us out a couple times too."

"That is true," she said wryly. "Anyway, this is Peter Stone. He works on the civil side."

Sonny turned his gaze and grin on him. He held out a hand. "Good to meet you."

Peter accepted the handshake and smiled back. If it was a little wider than usual, no one mentioned it. He tried to hide his amazement. Even the accent was the same.

"It's, uh, it's good to meet you too," Peter said while he mentally shook himself. He needed to snap out of it. 

There was no hint of recognition from Sonny. No flicker of light in his eyes. Nothing. It was as if he were meeting him for the first time. 

Peter tried to ignore the disappointment settling in his stomach. He didn't remember him. That night had been everything to Peter. The most romantic experience he had ever had and the inspiration that kicked off his music career. He would never forget it. 

But maybe that was the point. Peter might have forgotten the one night stand too if he hadn't written a multi-platinum song about it. Every time he had performed it, he had thought of him. He did even now, every time he heard it on the radio or playing in a store. Sonny didn't have that connection. And it had happened over 10 years ago now. It was unfair of him to expect him to remember. 

Peter briefly considered the irony of Sonny hearing the song while completely ignorant that it was actually about him before he shook himself again. Rita and Sonny were deep in conversation and he was not paying attention. 

"-in the DA's office maybe. Not sure what I want to do yet," Sonny said.

"Come to the dark side," Rita teased. "Defense attorneys aren't all evil."

"Course you'd say that. You're one of them."

"Look, Rafael talks a big game but he is my oldest friend despite our professional differences."

"Rafael Barba?" Peter interjected. "You work with SVU?"

Sonny looked at him again. Peter swallowed as he took in his bright blue eyes. The same ones that had stared into his while-

"Yeah. SVU detective. Barba's been nice enough to sorta mentor me though."

Peter smiled. "Barba's a good lawyer but he's not that personable with colleagues. Can't imagine he'd be a very good mentor."

He shrugged. "He's good enough for me. But you know him?"

"Oh, yeah. One of my clients was trying to get out of her recording contract because of the sexual harassment and assault she was facing. So we coordinated our civil and criminal cases."

"Makes sense. You work in music?"

"Mostly," he said as nonchalantly as he could manage. His heart hammered against his ribs. Would that be enough to trigger his memory? 

But nothing passed over his face other than curiosity. "That's cool. You like it?"

"I do. Most of the time it's pretty standard contract negotiation though. Not as exciting as criminal prosecutions."

Sonny waved a hand. "Criminal cases get overhyped a lot. Most trials are actually pretty boring too."

"Yeah I can imagine."

Peter caught Rita glancing at him out of the corner of his eye and tempered his smile. He hadn't realized he was practically grinning until that moment. He needed to control himself. Sonny didn't even remember him.

"So which panel are we headed to?” Sonny asked. “I wanna check out all the civil stuff."

Peter bit his lip to keep from laughing. In most people, he would be annoyed at that characterization. On Sonny, it was endearing.

"If you're going to graduate law school, maybe you should be a little more specific," he teased. 

He chuckled. "Yeah I know, but I've already graduated. And passed the bar."

Peter's eyebrows shot up. Pride for other man welled up unexpectedly in his chest. "Really? Rita didn't mention that to me."

She shrugged. "I don't subscribe to the Detective Carisi newsletter. I gave you the most updated information I had."

Sonny turned toward her with a sly grin. He leaned in close. "I could put you on it if you want."

She laughed. "I'm good. Thanks."

Peter fixated on him again, suddenly wishing Sonny was looking at him the way he was looking at Rita. He never got over the sly, crooked smile. It was even a prominent lyric in the song. 

He sighed. His distraction from the headlines and the speculation was thoroughly ruined. All because the angel himself had suddenly resurfaced.

  


* * *

  


_You are mine_  
_Not forever_  
_Not for a lifetime_  
_Just for tonight_

  


Peter spent the rest of the day in a daze. If he was distracted before, his focus was shot now. He just couldn't get over the fact that he had run into Sonny. The man he had fantasized about for years. He had never, ever for one second thought he would see him again. 

And then there he was. At the same conference. A detective and a bar member. It was a small world after all. 

Years had passed and there he was smiling, happy — and with no memory of him. Peter tried not to be too hurt by that fact, but it crushed him anyway. He couldn't count the number of times he had hoped Sonny would hear the song or see him performing and come running after him. That hope was permanently dashed now. To Sonny, their night was just another hookup. Fun for the moment, but the end. 

Peter had accepted that too. A major theme of the song was the temporary nature of their relationship. But he never for a second thought it was casual. What they had shared was sensual and intimate. And Peter was hurt to discover the experience hadn't left any kind of lasting impression on Sonny. 

It made the song feel like a sham. 

In a way, it already was. Anyone who heard it assumed it was about a woman — despite its complete lack of gendered pronouns. And that belief was confirmed by the music video he had produced back in the day. It featured him singing the song and making eyes at a beautiful woman. 

Peter had only done it to fulfill his contract and protested the explicit heterosexual nature of it the entire time. It felt disingenuous. But the studio wanted to market the song to the biggest audience possible. And to them, that meant making it as straight as possible.

Peter ended up fuming over his experience with his record label that afternoon. Something he hadn't allowed himself to do in a long time. By the time he made it home, he was beyond done. 

He slammed the door behind him, roughly set his bag down and tore off his jacket. He marched into his office, which held his instruments as well as his desk and paperwork.

He sat down at the upright piano and started banging out a melody. He wasn't really focusing on the notes and missed a few keys. Slammed into several at once. But it felt good to play again. Since he had quit his music career, he only played to impress at parties or holiday gatherings. He hadn't played for himself in a long time. 

He calmed after a few minutes and started playing more seriously. He strung together a few chords and notes into a cohesive melody. And he knew he needed to write it down. He pulled out his sheet music and set the phrase to paper. And then turned back to the piano. He felt the rush again. The exhilaration of finding just the right notes for expressing an idea. 

He felt all his worry and stress melt away. The outside world didn't exist. It was just him, his piano and the music. 

And then, his phone pinged. It was the offending whistle of a notification from Twitter. He really should have muted those days ago. His phone had been going off non-stop since the album that included his track had released. It was all very annoying and inconvenient. 

But some part of him wanted to see every tweet he was mentioned in. It was stupid but be didn't want to be left out of the conversation. Even if he never responded. 

He sighed and checked his phone. Just another person thinking they were smart. Commentary on how Angel In My Arms relied on heteronormative tropes and how that was harmful. 

He snorted. If only he had waited to launch his music career. It seemed now there were plenty of people lining up for gay love stories in their music. 

The person who posted it probably never expected him to see it or respond. This guy or whoever it was probably thought he had a little hot take on the hit song. Too bad he was dead wrong. 

Peter replied. _It was never about a woman,_ he wrote. 

He posted it, sighed again, and put his phone on silent. He was in the zone. He didn't need Twitter or anything else distracting him. 

He turned and picked up his guitar to figure out an accompanying harmony. Maybe some lyrics. It didn't matter that this song would probably never see the light of day. Finishing it would be an accomplishment in and of itself.

  


* * *

  


_You are my everything  
You are the angel in my arms_

  


Peter woke the next morning to his phone buzzing and whistling. It was so loud and constant he thought sleepily that someone had changed his ringtone. He vaguely remembered switching it out of silent mode before he went to sleep. Just in case any important calls came in during the night.

And then he leaned over and peered at the screen. It was filled with pages and pages of Twitter notifications. All of them discussing his tweet. 

He honestly didn't know what he had expected. He hadn't been thinking about the reception of the message when he posted it.

He picked up his phone and unlocked it. There were entire threads devoted to analyzing what he said. Tons of news articles. A lot of people cheering him on and just as many hating him for his sexuality. Others theorizing that maybe it was about his spirituality instead of a romance. That was definitely a stretch. There were entire blog posts devoted to analyzing the lyrics through the guise of a same-sex relationship. Many had noted correctly that there were no gendered pronouns in the lyrics. 

His email was next. That was even worse. A million interview requests. Some encouraging messages from clients. Some confused emails from his coworkers. And one from Rita. The body was blank and the subject only read: "Sue their asses."

Peter smiled and shook his head. He had no intention of doing that. The only thing that bothered him was that everyone thought Angel In My Arms was about a woman. Now they knew differently. 

Thousands of tweets, articles, blog posts, emails and, probably, phone messages. All because of a simple six-word sentence. The tweet heard round the world. 

The novelty had completely worn off by the time Peter made it into the office. Hearing television anchors discuss the meaning and ramifications of his tweet as he walked through the lobby was just the nail in the coffin. Somehow now, Peter was even _more_ annoyed at the situation. 

Before, most people recognized the song was a hit. That was indisputable. But many had entered the discourse saying that it was overrated and too tropey. It wouldn't be a classic. It was just a sweet pop ballad. But now... 

Now, everyone seemed to be declaring Angel In My Arms a seminal record. It was groundbreaking, evolutionary, and poignant. Yesterday it had been tired, overdone, and cliché. Amazing what six little words could do. 

Peter repressed a sigh when almost every person he passed on the way to his office congratulated him. This hadn't been for the purpose of coming out. He wasn't really in the closet to begin with. He only wanted everyone to know the true subject of the song, even if the subject himself had no idea.

But in the end, the subject of the song wasn’t really the point. It never offended Peter that people of a range of sexualities fell in love to the song. He was perfectly happy with being the soundtrack to their lives. It warmed his heart to think his song brought people together and reinforced their love. 

Then his blood ran cold. What if the song was the soundtrack of Sonny's love affair with someone else? What if when he heard the song he didn't think of Peter, but some other man or woman? He swallowed. That was worse than Sonny thinking of no one when he heard it. The song was written for him. It felt wrong to consider that, for Sonny, it was about someone else entirely. Some stranger Peter had never met. 

Peter pushed the thought away. It was a rabbit hole he didn't need to go down. Not when he had depositions to prep for. 

He turned to his work and buried himself in the case. No thoughts of the song, his record label, or Sonny appeared in his mind. It was him and the facts. 

Normally he could spend the entire day like that, but Eva knocked on his door in the middle of the afternoon. 

He frowned. "Eva, I said no interruptions."

"I know, I know.” She waved a hand. "But there's a detective out here desperate to see you and he won't take no for an answer."

His frown deepened. "Who is it?"

"He says his name is Dominick, but you know him by Sonny."

The papers in his hand started to shake slightly. He swallowed and set them down, but his hand continued to tremble. He swallowed again, trying to calm is beating heart. 

"Is he blond?" He asked almost timidly. 

Now, Eva frowned. "Uh...yeah?"

Peter nodded. "Okay. Tell him he can come in."

"You sure?" she asked softly. 

He nodded. "Yeah. Yes. Please."

"Okay..." She turned and walked back out. No doubt to communicate the message to his visitor.

Sonny. Why was he here? Job advice? A case? Did he finally remember?

He took in a breath and shoved his nervous thoughts down. Whatever it was, he would find out in less than a minute. Peter stood to greet his guest.

He had thought he prepared himself for the moment Sonny would appear in his doorway. Turned out he had lied to himself. He froze all over again, his pulse pounding in his ears. He took in another breath to steady himself. This was ridiculous. 

"Peter?" he asked hesitantly.

He shook his head and met his eyes. "Hi."

Sonny laughed, grinning. "Hi. You're a difficult guy to track down."

Peter chuckled. "Really? I've been here in my office all day."

"Well, lucky me."

He paused. Sonny was being more friendly than he should be if they only just met yesterday at a legal conference. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" Peter asked, trying to keep the hope out of his voice. He failed. 

Sonny licked his lips before speaking carefully. "The song is about me, isn't it?"

His blood roared in his ears. Surely he hadn't heard that right. "What?"

"Your song," He stepped slowly closer to him. "The one you tweeted about. I'm the angel in your arms."

Peter felt his face heat up and he glanced downward to try to mitigate the embarrassment. It only got worse as Sonny moved closer and closer. He thought he'd feel relieved when Sonny pieced it together. He just felt incredibly self-conscious. Maybe even a little creepy. 

Peter cleared his throat and nodded, pointedly not meeting his eyes. "Yeah. It is."

A heavy silence fell on the room. He swallowed again and fidgeted with a loose thread in his pocket. 

His head snapped up when Sonny spoke again. "I came down here to tell you that I feel the same way."

"What way?"

He smiled softly. "I love you too."

Peter laughed. He didn't know what he had been expecting but that wasn't it. 

"Look," Sonny continued, speaking faster, "I know it was just a one night stand and we never saw each other again until recently. But I left so fast partly because it was too much, too fast. It was just one night but I felt like I was falling for you. I was scared and I just walked out so I'm sorry."

Peter bit his lip. "I'm sorry I used our night together to further my music career."

Sonny finally stood in front of him. "Don't ever say that. If it wasn't for that song, I wouldn't be standing here right now. And...and I wouldn't change that for the world."

Peter laughed in disbelief. "You know how many times I wished you would show up and say something like that to me?"

"Too many," Sonny murmured. 

Peter nodded. "Too many."

He licked his lips again. Peter saw his beautiful blue eyes dip down to his lips briefly before looking away. Warmth flooded through Peter. _This was real._

"So," Peter started awkwardly.

Sonny easily filled the gap. "Are you free tonight? We could get dinner."

He smiled at him. "Eight."

He beamed. "Perfect."

Peter's heart was hammering with a completely different kind of nervousness now. He would get to see him again. Talk to him again. If things went well, he would get to touch him again. Kiss him again. Hold him again.

Peter couldn't wait to have his angel in his arms again. 


End file.
